The Depressed Musings of Harry Potter
by ausland
Summary: Harry is lonely after his defeat of Voldemort six years previous. Hermione is the only one who can cheer him up. Our heroine has just gotten out of a bad relationship and needs a shoulder to cry on... guess who she picks. HHR!


**A/N Hello everyone! New story! Probably only going to be this chapter and a epilogue. Who knows, if more people want me to develop this into a full length story I might. Be warned, I do not accept PMs or Anon reveiws. Got it? Good. Please reveiw. That is a common courtesy of , plus you get good karma. So, thank you for reading! There will be a epilouge, if you guys do not want a full story. **

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He had always loved her.

He knew it in his most secret of hearts; it was his secret and he did everything he could to make sure no one would find out, ever. That would be his undoing.

To him she was absolutely perfect; alabaster skin with an occasional bloom of color in the event of a joke at her expense or a passing thought. Hair as untamed as her spirit, curls in shades of mahogany and warm honey framing her cheekbones and flowing down her back. Chocolate eyes, always with a sparkle and another hint of something, something he longed to know of. She was far shorter than him, and had been since he had had his growth spurt in their fourth year. She was curvy, not one of those cold little sticks that modern girls tried so hard to emulate. Even with her little imperfections, he still loved her and admired her brain, her glorious, beautiful brain that had saved his arse so many times in all their years together. She was beautiful, she was smart, and she loved him. But the way she loved him was the matter.

To Hermione, Harry was a brother, a friend so close it was like he was her other half, but one that would never to be looked at as anything but a lover, one that could be counted on and would come through for everything but a relationship.

To Harry, Hermione was the epitome of perfection, the only person who could make his tea exactly as he liked it without him having to tell her, the only person who had seen his soul and not run away screaming. In the years since his defeat of Voldemort and the accompanying depression she had been his rock, his anchor. She had held him together when all he wanted to do was fall apart completely.

Harry was jolted from his musings by the door opening, the wards on the house alerting him to who was entering. Even without the wards he would have known who it was; no one but Hermione Granger was brave enough to enter the dwelling of the Man-Who-Triumphed without knocking or ringing the doorbell. That and almost no one else knew where he lived. She would just walk in, and head straight to Harry, always finding him on her first try, a feat that would have been impossible but the fact she knew him so well that on any given day she could guess what he was feeling and which room he was in accordingly. It was one of the reasons he was so in love with her.

"Hello, Harry." Her voice cut into his thoughts, pulling him out of his weary thoughts with her honey warm voice, one that was always sure to relax him and turn his mind to whatever she wanted. However, today he could hear something else in her voice, something that spoke of pain. That made him angry, as no one should ever make Hermione sad. Was the rest of the world a bunch of Ron Weasleys?

"Hermione." Could she tell how absolutely worshipful he was of her through his voice? He wanted desperately to know.

"Harry, it was only two weeks. I knew it wouldn't work out, but I did it anyway, and-"

"You broke up?" He hoped she couldn't hear the wish in his voice, his eager anticipation of the question.

"Yes. He was the first man I tried dating since Ron and we all know how that turned out," Hermione seemed like she was both trying not to cry, and trying to ask an awkward question.

Harry did indeed remember how her relationship with Ron had worked out. It had ended with their largest fight to date, with Ron hurdling accusations at Hermione, and Hermione insulting Ron. It would never had worked anyway. Even in their school days anyone could have seen that Ron and Hermione had only been glued together by Harry, and even then Ron's goal had always been to make Hermione cry and do his homework for him. Now at least the two were on semi-friendly terms. Semi-friendly meaning speaking civilly to each other.

Harry stood up and enfolded Hermione in his arms. She wrapped her own arms around him and wept. He took a deep breath, trying to get as much of her scent imprinted onto his mind as possible, saving it for the cold nights in his little cottage on the shore. He pushed that thought into the back of his mind for now, concentrating on Hermione. Her latest relationship had been with Victor Krum, and had proved disastrous. They had made the mistake of trying to rekindle a spark that was never there in the first place, and that doomed relationship and its end was why Hermione was now sobbing in his arms.

"Did he hurt you? He may be an international Quidditch player, but he could never stand up to-"

"No he never hurt me. I was just so hopeful, telling myself it would work out and-" Hermione stopped herself. She took a deep breath, and just blurted it out. "Can I stay here with you for a while? No one would bother us here with your wards and all and I need some time with just me, you, and the sea. Like in the first year after the war was over. We just stayed here and I helped you get over all your problems-"

Before she could go further he cut her off. It was almost to good to be true and he wanted to make sure he grasped the opportunity before it was taken away. "Of course you can stay here, Hermione. It's my turn to be the shrink. But for now, we need to sit down and have some tea. You stay here while I start it." Harry hurried from his room, hearing Hermione sit down on his bed and kick off her shoes. It took all his self-control not to leap up in the air and pump his fist. From a day beginning with the depressed musings of Harry Potter, it was turning out pretty well.

Time went on. The first few days of Hermione's stay were awkward, but after they passed the week mark they were as close as they had been in their Hogwarts days. By the second week they were even closer. So it was no surprise Hermione noticed the euphoric look on Harry's face when she hugged him, or the way he always took a deep breath, burying his face in her hair. So she decided to do something about it.

The way she looked at it, she really been stupid when she was younger. She had been in love with Harry since the troll had almost killed all of them. Then when she had finally given up on him in their fifth year, she had decided that is she couldn't have the one she wanted she would have his best friend. That had worked out horribly, her and Ron's relationship ending with him accusing her of being in love with Harry playfully, and when he saw the look on her face he had realized the truth. That had gotten him furious, and he had yelled insults and accusations, doing anything he could to get Hermione to cry. Then Hermione did anything she could to insult him, and try to cover up her hideous mistake. No matter what she had tried, she had fallen even deeper in love with Harry in the year and a half they had spent together, just the two of them and the sea on a cottage on a cliff. To her, it was a chance to be with Harry, to be the one he unburdened on, the one who helped him through all his problems. That had worked out great until they had rejoined the wizarding world. Or at least, she rejoined it. Harry had lasted two months before leaving Potter Manor and returning to his seaside property. When she had been moving into her new apartment, Ron had helped her out, and had been looking at her with different eyes, eyes that were mainly focused on her trim backside or chest. She had decided to give it a try and...

Any way, as Hermione saw it she had three options.

One, leave now, and live as the crazy old cat lady who scared all the kids.  
Two, get Harry really drunk and get him to tell her if he loved her. Then in the morning, react to whatever Harry said.

Three, just tell him herself.

The thing was, she really did not like any of her options. She did not love easily, and when she did it was forever. She really thought Harry did feel something for her, but was that something friendship or more? That was the question that plagued her.

What to do, what to do?

Harry had gotten many surprises in his twenty-three years, and a drunk Hermione in only a tank top and shorts was one of them. In fact, it was right up there with the whole "you're a horcrux" business. The fact that Hermione was in her pajamas did not bother him, however, Hermione was carrying a bottle of firewhisky had sealed the deal.

Two hours later Hermione was done with the bottle and drunker than she had been when Harry had returned from the grocers. Harry had opted not to join her for his own selfish reasons. It had been almost five years since Harry had been drunk. He was, even though he hated to admit it, a lightweight. The only two people in the world who knew it were Hermione and Ron. In his fifth year, there had been four, with the addition of Remus and Sirius. The Marauders had gotten Harry, Ron, and Hermione drunk one night over their Christmas break. The two pranksters, plus eight bottles of firewhiskey had been a hilarious combination.

"Sooo, Harry. Do you luuvve me?" Hermione slurred. "B'cause I love you. A lot." Those words just about gave Harry a heart attack. Her, love, him? It was completely improbable to him.

"Hermione, you are completely pissed. It is way past time for you to get in bed," Harry picked Hermione up, and started to carry her up to her room. He tried to ignore the way she was rubbing her head into his chest, and yawning sleepily, occasionally emitting small bursts of flame.

"You still haven't answered me, Harry. I'm waiiiting!" Her voice was shrill and teasing, making it hard for Harry to keep his focus. He finally deposited her on her bed, and started to tuck her in. He took a moment to look at her when he was sure she was asleep.

"Yes Hermione. I really do love you." With that, Harry walked out of the room.

As soon as he was out and the door was shut, Hermione opened her eyes and squealed to herself. He loved her!

It had not been hard to act drunk. After her first time at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus, she had discovered she did not like being drunk. It scared her if she was not in complete control of all her mental functions. So after Harry had left for the grocers, she had gotten a bottle of firewhiskey and splashed some on her skin and clothes. The after Harry got back she just had enough to make him think she was drunk. She knew a simple spell to make herself belch flames for an hour, and if she did say so herself, she was a good actress. After all, she had hidden her feelings from Harry for almost thirteen years. And she knew enough to act drunk. Yes, she smiled to herself. It had been a very profitable night.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a feeling of elation, then apprehension. Hermione has said she loved him! But now it was the morning after firewhiskey and Harry remembered all too well the night after the Christmas "Party" at Grimmauld Place when Hermione had thrown up for three hours until Remus took pity on her and gave her a hangover antidote. He was not looking forward to holding back her hair this morning. He sighed, and got out of bed, ready to start the coffee. Hermione could never function in the morning without her coffee. That was a habit started in their fifth year, with all the stress from the O.W.L.s, Umbridge, and planing the D.A.

Harry hurried down the stairs towards the kitchen, mentally going through the lecture he was going to give to Hermione. It wasn't often it was her on the receiving side of a telling off and even rarer that it wasn't him!

When he stumbled into the sunny kitchen, he was startled by the sight that awaited his eyes. Hermione was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper like it was any other morning.

"Morning, Harry. Your tea is on the stove," she said smiling. "The cream is already on the table, but the sugar is in the cupboard. You'll have to get that yourself. And after breakfast we need to take a long walk on the beach and talk about last night. Okay?"

Harry felt his head spinning. He nodded absentmindedly, and set to work, taking out the teabag and grabbing two sugars from the cupboard, pouring less than a spoonful of cream. It was only after he finished his cup that he asked what was really on his mind. "So... you're not hungover. What the hell was that?"

"I wasn't really drunk Harry. Now about that walk..."

Four hours later the two had shared their emotions and a heartfelt kiss, and were officially "boyfriend and girlfriend." Harry was grinning happily from ear to ear, his arm around Hermione's shoulder and his face ducking down every few seconds to sniff her hair.

On her part, Hermione was grinning too, half happily half smugly. Her plans _always_ worked. There was no if about it. Now her next plan involved the two of them, a ring, a dress, and a few babies. She had always wanted a little girl...

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**So? What did you think? Did you like it? Do you want a full story or just a epilouge? Please reveiw and tell me! It is the nice, polite thing to do!**

**Thanks so much for reading. Hugs and Chocolate Cookies. Yes, I love you too. **

**Toodles! **


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